


A Very Archives Gift Exchange

by elfentruthed



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gift Exchange, awkward office holiday party, could be canon compliant if your heart says it is, give martin blackwood the love he deserves, if jonny sims wont give us a christmas special i will do it myself, is it slightly ooc? maybe a little. but i don't care, it's only rated teen for some very light swearing, this is during early season 1 and everything is fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21803818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfentruthed/pseuds/elfentruthed
Summary: ...some details must have slipped through the cracks, because the archival staff were not made aware of the annual holiday gift exchange until sign-ups and matches were already done. Martin wasn’t sure how Elias could have let all three of them slip like that, but Elias probably just had a lot on his plate, and it wasn’t as if he was all-knowing. But when Martin brought up the issue to Elias and he suggested he would tell Rosie so she could start over as soon as possible before too many people finalized their gifts for each other, of course Martin couldn’t stop himself from suggesting he just take care of a small exchange just between them.Stupid.-Martin is in charge of arranging an office holiday party. Will hilarity ensue? Awkwardness? Struggle and conflict? Nah, this is just gonna be really sweet. I promise.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2019





	A Very Archives Gift Exchange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nemainofthewater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/gifts).



Everything was finally coming together. More work had gone into this effort than Martin had originally anticipated, and he had to admit he wasn’t sure if he’d be willing to volunteer to run an activity like this again next year like he said he’d want to. And he was only working this out for _four_ people; the other institute staff did something similar, Rosie always managed the whole thing, and there were _dozens_ of them. She must have had the patience of a saint and the organizational skills of a robot. Well, she worked directly under Elias, so that much should have been obvious already, but still. What a nightmare.

Though, some details must have slipped through the cracks, because the archival staff were not made aware of the annual holiday gift exchange until sign-ups and matches were already done. Martin wasn’t sure how Elias could have let all three of them slip like that, but Elias probably just had a lot on his plate, and it wasn’t as if he was all-knowing. But when Martin brought up the issue to Elias and he suggested he would tell Rosie so she could start over as soon as possible before too many people finalized their gifts for each other, of course Martin couldn’t stop himself from suggesting he just take care of a small exchange just between them. Stupid.

That wasn’t entirely fair. Martin hadn’t volunteered himself in the moment out of some sense of guilt for bringing it up in the first place. Mostly not, anyway. But he really did think it would be kind of fun. And it was, actually. He was having fun with this. But for such a small group, it was more work than he could have expected. And as much as he hated to admit it, Jon had been kind of right when he expressed his concern that managing this would take Martin’s attention away from the work he was supposed to be doing. It didn’t detract from his performance very much, but the planning and anxiety that no one would enjoy themselves did take away from his concentration and dig into his sleep schedule a bit. He already had the impression that he wasn’t quite meeting Jon’s standards for an assistant, so that little loss made him a bit nervous.

But that actually was another part of the reason he wanted to do this, wasn’t it? Out of the four of them Martin had been working at the Institute the longest, and even while he was upstairs he was pretty sure he was one of the most senior of the staff. Yet despite that… He couldn’t help feeling like an outcast. People were nice enough to him while he was upstairs, but it wasn’t as if he was getting invited to go out for drinks with everyone on Fridays. And then since getting brought into the archives a few months ago, Tim and Sasha were the closest things to friends he’d had since…. Ever, really. They actually _did_ spend time outside of work, which was a pleasant change. Martin got the feeling that both Tim and Sasha barely regarded his competence any higher than Jon did, though. And Jon… Well, Jon was Jon. He was like that with everyone, at least. But he was _more_ like that especially to Martin.

So, arranging a archival gift exchange, going a little bit above and beyond by making it a mini-office party with a few basic decorations and snacks and drinks even… He really had to be quite the people-pleaser to get people to think he was really worth their time, didn’t he?

Christ, now he was making himself sad. “The party is tomorrow afternoon,” he whispered to himself, tapping the end of his pencil vigorously against the table. “Finish up my planning, hope it goes well, and feel good about it. And if people don’t like it, then I have plenty of time to feel bad about myself later.”

All he had left to do was finish writing up the clues for the gifts’ hiding places. For such a small exchange he had to do something extra to make it interesting, and a scavenger hunt seemed to be the best way to go about it. The original plan was three clues per gift, the first two clues leading to another clue, and the last clue describing where the gift was hidden. But Martin realized that was probably pushing the boundaries of their tolerance for cheesy office activities, so he decided to just go for the one.

Good thing too. Elias and Jon made it easy on him with some nice, simple hiding spots, at least; there were at least semi-poetic metaphors and phrases that might be used to describe a café or Rosie’s desk.

But Sasha and Tim… Sasha hiding Jon’s gift on top of an 8-foot tall bookshelf just made Martin want to include something along the lines of _please just don’t break your neck_. He’ll have to remember to set up a stepstool conveniently nearby tomorrow morning. And then Tim placing Elias’s gift balanced on the top of the stall barriers in the men’s room, really? What was he supposed to do with _that_?

His best, that’s what he was going to have to do. Then he can go to sleep.

\--

The rest of the team was… surprisingly receptive to participating in the mini-party Martin had set up. Sasha had brought some cookies that Martin was almost certain were home-made, which was a very pleasant surprise. Tim had brought a bottle of red and a bottle of white, assuring Martin that he didn’t actually think the four of them would go through both in the middle of the day like this but he didn’t know what people liked. And everyone seemed to have dressed up for the occasion. Sasha had put on a pretty festive sweater dress, Tim was wearing a tacky Santa cap and a t-shirt with some suggestive joke about gifts under trees, Elias _apparently_ owned a tie with a snowman pattern, and even _Jon_ had dressed up in a really nice burgundy sweater.

Martin was suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the minimal decorations he had set up and his own lack of anything resembling festive attire. He had elected for a low-effort aesthetic so he wouldn’t come off too desperate for approval… but now he was all too aware of the fact that he looked like he cared the least out of all of them. Great.

The other four were mingling near the snack table chatting about something or other as they sipped the wine Tim had brought in. Martin was standing some distance away, staring intently into his cup of cheap punch as if it would tell him something he could pull out of the air in the next five seconds to make it look like he really did care as much as the others about this stupid party.

It was Tim’s voice that snapped Martin out of his venture to invent psychic punch reading.

“Hey, Martin! Do we get to open these gifts you made us hunt down, or what?”

Tim’s tone was clearly a lighthearded tease, but Martin felt hot blood rushing to his face all the same. “Right!” he responded. “Right, yes, of course. Go on, of course.”

A brief pause. “Well, come on over then,” Tim said. “I know you said you were leaving yourself out of the exchange since you were setting it up, but you should still sit with us while we open everything. That way you can give Jon a proper earful if it turns out he put as much thought into his gift as I suspect he would.” He finished this last statement with a gentle nudge of his elbow into Jon’s arm.

Jon scowled, a hit of red darkening his cheeks. “We’ll see who gives whom an earful,” he muttered, leaning away from Tim’s prodding. Martin wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but he hoped it didn’t somehow imply he or Tim were in trouble with Jon once the party was over.

The five of them stepped just a few feet over to where the assistants’ three desks had been pushed slightly to the side to open the space a bit. Martin, Jon, and Elias all pulled chairs from the desks to sit in, and Tim and Sasha each sat on Martin’s desk, the five of them forming something vaguely resembling a circle.

“So…” Jon began after a moment of silence. “Ah, who should go first?”

“I will!” Sasha immediately volunteered. Shee leaned down and pulled the gift bag up from next to her feet onto her lap, and immediately began fishing around inside for the card revealing the name of the gift-giver.

She pulled out a small envelope with her name written in elegant handwriting on the front. Her face twisted into something of a smug grin, likely having immediately figured out who had been matched to her before even opening the card. Martin felt a little jolt of pride when he saw her expression. There was something so satisfying about seeing someone figure out the identity of their gift-giver in secret exchanges like this.

Sasha carefully opened the envelope, then pulled out the card and silently read its contents. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed and pulled up into a small smile as she put her other hand on her chest. “Elias,” she said, her voice light, “that was… surprisingly sweet, thank you.”

Elias frowned. “What, you think I didn’t have it in me to say nice things to my staff?” he asked sternly.

Sasha sputtered. “Wh- No, I meant—”

Elias’s frown quickly turned into a smirk. “I was just teasing, Sasha. You’re welcome.”

The five of them were quiet for another moment as the obvious question – _what did he write in the card? –_ hung in the air. Martin decided to leave it for now. He would no doubt overhear Tim digging it out of her in a few hours.

Sasha pursed her lips, then grinned. “Right then!” She turned the bag towards her, lifting the tissue paper out of the way so she could peer inside. The grin on her face widened as she reached in and retrieved a gift wrapped in paper with a snowman pattern. Perfectly matching Elias’s tie. Of course.

Sasha took the gift bag off her lap and set it in the space between her and Tim. She looked over at Tim, who returned her glance with a smile. Then she looked right at Martin, got up from her seat on the desk, and walked over to him, the gift still in her hand.

Martin watched her take all these movements but didn’t realize what she was doing until she stretched her arm out, holding the gift just a few inches away from him. Even then it took him a moment to figure it out, but once he looked around and saw the other three looking at him somewhat expectantly he understood.

“Wh—” he stuttered, turning his face back to look up at Sasha. “Sasha, it’s yours!”

“No,” she replied, her smile still just as big as it was before, “I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”

Martin looked down at the box, and indeed, affixed to the top was an envelope labeled, in just as elegant handwriting as the one from the gift bag – _For Martin._

Now, Martin looked over to Elias. “Elias, I can’t—”

Elias only responded with a look that told Martin not to argue. So he didn’t.

With everyone still looking at him expectantly, Martin finally reached up and took the gift from Sasha’s hands. She quickly turned and returned to her seat next to Tim on the desk. As soon as she was settled, she turned her attention back to Martin and looked at him just as expectantly as the others.

The urge to protest rose through his throat and fought to open his mouth, but he knew no one was going to move on until he opened this first. So he plucked the envelope from the box, opened it, and read the card inside.

“Martin,” he said aloud. “The four of you deserved to celebrate your transfer to the archives. Consider this a token of my sincere gratitude for making the time and effort to make it happen. Elias Bouchard.” He looked up at Elias, not smiling but his eyes bright in appreciation. “Thank you, Elias.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” Elias replied, a congenial smile crossing his face. He waved his hand in a lazy gesture. “Go on, then.”

“Right, right.”

Martin wasn’t quite sure how to handle opening the gift; he couldn’t really remember the last time he did so with everyone’s attention on him. Probably not since he was very young. Should he rip it excitedly without a care in the world, like a child hoping to find a brand new favorite toy within? Or should he approach it tactfully, carefully removing the tape without ripping the paper as if he wanted to save it for his own use next year?

God, he was overthinking it. He decided to just go for it naturally, pulling at the seams and letting the paper tear if that’s what it decided to do.

Inside was a cardboard box, unassuming but that sturdy, thin material that looked neat and put together. Inside, Martin found a mug. Not too big, an elegant, matte black finish that was interrupted with an intricate engraving that covered almost the entire surface. It actually resembled a spider’s web. As Martin lifted it out of the box and moved it around to admire the pattern, the light caught the mug to reveal that within the engraving was silver lining that shone and glinted like spider’s silk as he turned it. It was, in all honesty, one of the prettiest pieces of kitchenware he had ever seen. He almost wanted to be afraid he would break it if he held it wrong. But it was a good, heavy, sturdy thing, and just holding it Martin could tell it would take a significant drop to do anything worse than chip it.

“Wow.” Martin looked down from the mug and around the room, seeing that the others seemed to be admiring it just as much as he had been. Other than Jon, that is, who considered the mug with a grimace and looked away after a moment. Martin turned his attention to Elias. “Wow,” he repeated. “Thank you, Elias.”

“You’re very welcome, Martin,” Elias replied. His voice was sincere. Martin wasn’t sure why he was surprised by that. “Now, perhaps I can go next?”

Without waiting too long for an answer, Elias reached for his gift bag and brought it up to his lap. He reached in and pulled out the card immediately, as if he knew exactly where it had been tucked away. This was not in an envelope like Elias’s cards to Sasha and Martin had been. It wasn’t even folded, so as Elias pulled the card up Martin could see written in large, neat print – _To Boss Man. From Tim._

Elias considered the card with a raised eyebrow. “Boss man? Is this meant for me, or for Jon?”

“No, it’s for you.” Tim put a hand to his chin and tapped his jaw with one finger as if thinking deeply. “But you bring up a good point. Maybe if I needed to address something to Jon, I’d call him Mini-Boss Man.”

“Is that a comment on my height?” Jon retorted, exasperated.

“Nah, it wasn’t.” Tim grinned. “But now it can be.”

Sasha snickered, and Jon rolled his eyes. It was at this point Martin realized that Sasha hadn’t yet opened the gift that was actually meant for her. But it kind of seemed too late now, and she hadn’t protested either so perhaps she was caught up in the excitement. He’d have to make sure she did so before they moved to the next person.

“Right. Well, then.” Elias reached into the bag and pulled out a wide, flat box. He considered it for a moment.

Martin felt his stomach sink a bit as Elias reached over past Jon and placed the box on Martin’s lap.

Martin looked over at Elias, who looked over to Tim. Martin turned to look at Tim, who just smiled and shrugged. Martin looked down at the box, which had a card taped to it like the earlier one from Elias. _To Marto. From Tim._

Martin looked up at Tim again. “Tim…”

“I’m not gonna tell you what’s inside! Just open it!” He looked like he was almost bouncing with excitement.

Martin exhaled sharply, something between a sigh and a scoff, and turned his attention back to the box. Out of everyone at the institute he was maybe the closest to Tim – heck, he knew Tim before he was hired – so maybe Tim felt like he should get Martin something. That was fair enough, he supposed.

He lifted the lid on the box. Folded neatly was a sweater.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. He lifted it up a few inches to examine the entirety of the sweater unfolded. It was dark red and gray alternating in a pattern resembling some kind of cross between zig-zag and argyle. It looked like it was plucked straight from a department store 25 years go.

Immediately, Martin _adored_ it.

“Oh, that’s _so_ perfect,” he heard Sasha whisper to Tim, who replied with a proud “I know, _right?_ ” Next to him Martin heard Jon utter a sound of pleasant surprise, and one more seat over he heard Elias hum a somewhat condescending _hmm._

They were going to get sick of seeing him wear this thing.

Martin thought for a moment about how when he was upstairs he would get things during the annual exchange that were somewhat… generic. Nice, but could be given to anyone. A gift certificate to a local coffee shop (that didn’t really have much he liked). A body soap and lotion set that smelled generally pleasant (but disagreed with his sensitive skin). A pair of really nice, warm mittens (that were too small for his large hands). So now the confusion of two unexpected gifts in a row was beginning to be overpowered by a sparkling joy that he had received two gifts that he really _liked_.

He let this emotion overwhelm him just long enough for Tim to tell Jon it was his turn. Neither Sasha nor Elias had opened theirs yet. Martin looked over confused at the two of them, but they both had their attention turned to Jon.

“Alright then,” Jon said. He was already reaching into the bag. The card he pulled out was blue cardstock, outlined with a floral pattern that was actually possibly hand-drawn. “Another congratulations on the promotion, Jon,” he read. “I look forward to continuing to solve all your technical needs in the new year!” This actually got a smile out of Jon, a rare sight that made Martin’s stomach flutter a bit. …For some reason. “Thank you Sasha.”

“What would you do without me, boss?” she teased.

Jon chuckled and turned the bag down slightly to look into it. He considered for a moment, then reached in and pulled out a box.

Which he promptly passed over to Martin.

Now Martin was just thoroughly confused.

If they wanted to get him something, that was fine. Why were they giving them to him during the exchange he wasn’t even part of? Why were they foregoing opening their actual gifts they were supposed to exchange to have him open some first?

He looked up at Sasha, who returned his confused look with an amused expression that seemed to say _I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not saying anything._

Whatever.

Martin sighed, not contemptuously, and opened the third box to be placed on his lap today. Just as before, the confusion and anxiety of the unexpected situation were dissipated as he looked at what had been given to him. A leather book that looked worn and distressed, but the pristine edges of the pages made it obvious that the book was brand new. And with it was a trio of really nice – like, really, really nice – pens. Like, the really sturdy metal ones that the business type proudly clipped to their shirt pockets. Did they even have his name engraved on them?

They even had his name engraved on them.

“Sasha…” Martin looked up, his face slack with wonder. He was too awed to be worried about how silly his expression looked.

“See, I remembered you liked to write poetry – Oh, uh, was that a secret?” She looked over at Jon and Elias, but Martin didn’t hear them respond. “Um, well, anyway, I thought you might not have anything kind of nice like this. Or, I don’t know, maybe you do, but journals eventually get filled and pens can die out.”

“Yeah,” Martin replied, looking back down at the writing set. “I mean, I mean no, I’ve never… I’ve never had anything this _nice_. This is… wow. I’m…” He looked back up at her. The _thank you_ wouldn’t even come out.

She seemed to catch his meaning, though, and a huge smile graced her face. “Oh I’m glad you like it.” She turned and looked at Tim. “Tim?”

“Alright, best for last,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

Martin finally found the will to protest. “But—”

Tim was undeterred. “So by process of elimination, this one’s gotta be from the Mini-Boss Man, yeah?”

Jon scoffed. Martin sensed him tense, and felt a strange panic rise up into his own throat.

Tim retrieved the card from the bag and glanced at it before briefly waving it in triumph. He set the card down, reached in the bag, and pulled something out.

By the time he was standing in front of Martin to offer him the large box, Martin’s had lifted his hands to his face to help hide the deep red of… embarrassment wasn’t the right word. It felt more like… guilt.

“Martin?” Next to him, Jon’s voice was low and full of what sounded like genuine concern.

“Why are you guys doing this?” Martin asked, pulling his hands away from his face. “I mean, from Elias, alright, yeah, I worked this all out and saved Rosie a lot of work of starting over just to include us. Tim, okay, I’ve known you the longest. Sasha, I mean, you’re always so sweet and I saw you felt bad when I said I wouldn’t participate since I was putting it together. So alright. Funny coincidence. But, I mean, Jon…” He turned and saw Jon looking right at him, his head tilted slightly. He didn’t look angry, but Martin stumbled. “I mean, not saying you’re, like…. Mean. Or cruel. Or anything like that. It’s just…”

“Out of character?” Jon finished the thought.

Martin nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and soft. He wasn’t at any immediate threat of crying. If he was going to go for a cheesy metaphor, it wasn’t as if tears were knocking on the door. But maybe he could hear them walking down the hallway.

Jon shrugged. “I’m not one to just… give gifts to people unwarranted. But this isn’t unwarranted. Elias had the right of it,” he gestured his hand toward Elias in emphasis, “you offered to do all this and asked nothing in return. That was… that was very kind, Martin.”

“Exactly,” said Sasha. “And, I mean, don’t think we don’t notice the little stuff too. If I’m having a hard time with a case, I can always count on a cup of tea showing up on my desk to help get me through it.”

“You have _tea_ in the _archives_?” Elias admonished.

From his periphery, Martin saw Tim wave dismissively. “Hold on Boss Man, we’re complimenting Martin.”

“…Right.” Jon cleared his throat. “Now, if you don’t want… I mean, I…” He sighed. “I’m really not great with gifts, and now I fear the others set the bar too high. But, regardless, that’s for you. From me. So…” He gestured vaguely at the somewhat heavy box still sitting unopened in Martin’s hands.

“Right, right.” Still dazed, Martin opened up the box. It was a little collection of things, as if Jon couldn’t quite decide on what was the right one to go for.

A selection of three teas. English breakfast, Earl Grey, Peppermint… Really, really good tea too; Martin recognized the brand. And underneath, two books. They looked kind of old, like proper old, not the faux-distressed look of the journal Sasha had gotten him. One was a selection of works by Wordsworth, the other an anthology of a few different poets from the Romantic era. Martin could almost imagine the thoughts that went through Jon’s mind as he picked these out. _Martin likes tea, sure, let’s do tea. But that’s not very personalized is it? Have I seen him reading Wordsworth? That’ll be good. Except if I’ve seen him reading Wordsworth, then well he probably knows all these, and he probably likes other poets too. Maybe I should get works from others during that era_. Martin smiled at the idea of that much thought being put into it.

He picked up the book on top, the Wordsworth, and thumbed through the yellowed pages. As he flipped through he was met with a hint of that muddled vanilla and musk smell characteristic of old books. These were definitely a few decades old, picked up at a used book store.

Just as he was getting ready to look up and assure Jon that these were wonderful, just as wonderful as the others, he realized there was something tucked about halfway through the book. He opened it to the gap to find a tangle of yellow and blue yarns, vaguely resembling a crochet flower. Next to him, Jon winced.

“Oh that… That looks worse than I remembered.” Martin looked up at him. Jon had lifted his glasses a bit to pinch the bridge of his nose. “See, I just… I wasn’t sure about the other two, if they were just cheap cop-outs. And I had heard that making something is, well… But I mean, I don’t do anything. Crafty, I mean. I tried to think if there was something I could learn quick enough, just to do something small, and I happened to have a set of a few of my grandmother’s old crochet hooks, and living in the age of the internet I thought…”

Jon looked at Martin, and Martin just looked back, expectantly.

Jon’s voice was more frustrated, now. “Good lord was I wrong. Trying to figure out how to even hold the damn thing, I just… It _said_ it was for beginners, but it took three hours of searching to even figure out what the abbreviations mean and how to do those things! And it wasn’t until the end that I realized I was using far, _far_ too small of a hook, which is why it was so tight and the yarn kept slipping off and not pulling through, and…. And, and! And did you know the US uses a lot of the same terms for _different_ stitch…. Things? And these instructions, they didn’t, they didn’t say if I was supposed to use US or UK definitions so how the hell was I supposed to—Martin?”

Getting back to cheesy metaphors: the tears came in with a battering ram.

Martin heard feet hit the floor, presumably Sasha’s. And then a hand was on his back, presumably Sasha’s. “Martin?” she echoed.

God, that thing was _such_ a shitty flower. It was, Martin wasn’t going to deny that. But so much work had gone into just _trying_ , fighting through frustration and taking hours just to try to figure it out, because Jon hadn’t been sure if the other two truly, actually wonderful gifts were… good enough. For Martin. Jon was worried about not being good enough for Martin.

Sasha had been too, he realized now. Tim didn’t express any doubt, but the instant pride when Martin’s face lit up told him that Tim was hoping it was good enough. Martin doubted Elias cared enough to doubt himself, really. But that mug was gorgeous. Some level of thought went into that.

Martin wiped his face with his sleeve. “This is just…” He sniffled, and with some effort pushed his voice through the tears. “This was… this was the nicest thing _anyone_ has ever done for me. Ever. Really, I’m… Thank you.” The tears fought back, but he fought harder. He sniffled again. “Just… Thank you.”

A brief hesitation, then Tim’s voice. “Can we give you a hug?”

Certainly not the question he was expecting, but definitely a question Martin realized a piece of him hoped to be asked. He smiled and nodded and sharply exhaled in a sound resembling a laugh, wiping his eyes again with his sleeve. Almost instantly after his approval, Sasha’s warm, soft arms were around him. Followed by a brief tug on his head – he assumed it was a transfer of the cheesy Santa cap from Tim’s head to his own – then one of Tim’s arms around him and the other presumably around Sasha, pushing her a little closer. Then, after just a moment, an arm on his shoulders and a head gently pushing on his through the cheap hat as Jon did his best to squeeze in where he could.

All this time Martin spent worried about being good enough for them, and on the other side they had been plotting to be good enough for him. What a strange feeling it was to be worthwhile.

For this moment, wrapped in a cocoon of affection, Martin thought it was a feeling he’d like to get used to.

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out. So much longer than I meant it to. But Martin deserves 5000 words of love. He deserved a better title than what I was able to come up with, though.


End file.
